


Armor & Music

by Crystar



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Gen, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-13 01:17:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7956478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystar/pseuds/Crystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After helping to fight back Vishkar and control Brazil in the name of the rebellion, Reinhardt and Lucio cement their partnership permanently, as a heroic duo - one of two unorthodox friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Life Of The Party!

**Author's Note:**

> The below is from Overwatch Amino, so that's why some things don't make sense when applied to here. 
> 
> Yes, this is a fanfiction. I haven’t written a FanFiction in a long time, so this is me getting back into it via Overwatch. It’s been a long time coming, really. I wanted to do a story for a while, and inevitably it was Overwatch related. So here it is. I don’t do ships, do don’t get your hopes up. I always just felt like stories of Overwatch could work in almost a comic book sort of style. So “Armor and Music” is a series based around Reinhardt and Lucio as a heroic duo, sort of like Power Man and Iron Fist in Marvel. Reading it over, I’m a bit rusty, I feel like, but now with the initial started, I believe I’ll improve into the story-writing prowess I used to have. I used to be a big fanfiction writer, but those days fell apart.
> 
> This chapter doesn’t have too much action, just a simple sort of intro to what brought this uncanny duo together, with some friendly dialogue between the two. So in a sense, it’s a prologue, but still Issue 1.
> 
> Excuse my poor editing skills. Instead, give love to the original artist, named panelgutter. Go give them some love. They do a lot of cool art, so I totally recommend checking them out.
> 
> If you're an artist yourself, feel free to submit art for future issues! I'd love to feature your art.
> 
> And without further ado, read on. I hope you enjoy!

Night had fallen over the Brazilian skyline. A humming sound - the sound of an elevator's surging power as it traveled upwards could be heard through the ears of the man standing inside. Silence, otherwise. Dead silence. Perhaps an occasional grunt, or the faint sound of the man's own breathing would be present - but otherwise, nothing but silence. The elevator was a pure chrome, matching the fancy landscape of the building the man was currently visiting. When it came to the man himself, he was rather tall and bulky - his shoulders wide. Perhaps almost too tall. His head stopped only mere inches below the elevator's roof. His attire was sharp - a stark tuxedo that was prim and proper for the occasion. Within one of his hands was a black walking staff, one of mere looks rather than usage. The man, although old - prevalent via his completely gray hair - was more than capable of walking efficiently. The walking staff was an idea the tailor had given him, in an attempt for adding flair in his looks. Keeping his demeanor bold and upright, the man felt over his grayed hair with his free hand, petting it down to keep it flat. The hair wasn't long, and ran just above his shoulders. Tonight, he had it slicked back neatly for the occasion.

The elevator inevitably stopped with a small ring that resembled a doorbell in sound, causing him to take notice. Twenty-fifth floor. The man's eyes darted to his wrist, where his shiny silver watch sat humbly, ticking away. He was arriving late, but not too late. The party had started at seven, but he had arrived at eight. Surely the host wouldn't mind some slight tardiness - especially after how hard he had worked to dress up for the evening. With that in mind, he stepped into the open hallway of the twenty-fifth floor and looked about for the appropriate door he was invited to. It didn't take long. Through the hallway came the somewhat muffled beating of electronic-genre music. The beats of the music felt as if they were a giant tapping his finger against the side of the building. Perhaps he had dressed for the wrong type of party.

With that, the man knocked upon the door that was labeled "25A." The door was sat at the end of the left wing of the hallway, with nothing but steel wall to his left and empty hallway to his right. The man couldn't help but wonder about the fellow members of this building. How were they able to put up with the party host's musical tastes? Surely they would've been annoyed by now. Perhaps they could've filed for a noise compliment. Or did his friend have enough influence that the neighbors simply joined the party? It was an intriguing thought, one that the man didn't dwell on for much longer. Thinking was not his strong suit. His mind would eventually give out and focus on something more interesting.

The door opened and there the party host stood, in a much different outfit than the man was used to. His friend donned a simple loose white t-shirt and black sweatpants, with a pair of stylish blue and black sneakers to go along with it. His complexion was a darker tone than the man's, and his height was much shorter. Even so, the dreaded party host looked up at the large man and chuckled happily at his presence. "It's about time you showed up to the party! Welcome! Make yourself at home, alright? My home is your home." The man happily accepted the invitation when the party host stepped to the side to let him in. "You came dressed really sharp! You got class, man. I like it. You should've kicked it casual, though, like me. Only the guests are dressed up, you know?" The party host replied as he shut the front door, tugging the chain lock at the top into place.

The older man stepped inside and only smiled at his friend's comments, his hands on his waist as he walked into the observe the area. The party host certainly lavished in the benefits of his celebrity status. The room he entered was a large kitchen-living room area, filled with people enjoying beverages, music, and casual chatter. The windows stretched from the floor to the ceiling, giving a glimpse at the Brazilian skyline. Three large couches sat in the center of the floor around a large flatscreen TV. On the left, the luxurious kitchen could be seen, along with what was once the dining room - now converted into a makeshift dance floor. DJ equipment stemming from a laptop sat on the dining table, with several men and woman dancing just feet away from it. Also on the table sat a loudspeaker device, one that the older man had seen many times in the past. "Ah, my friend! I have arrived only at your invitation. I must look my best if I am to be one of your guests!"

"Man, I'm not hearing that noise!" The party host chuckled again, patting his friend's shoulder. "My home is your home. You can come casual if you want." Then the younger man suddenly chirped up with an "Oh" before patting his friend's shoulder quickly once again. "Hey, why not you go sit down a bit? I need to get the playlist set up. These people don't stop dancing, you know?" He cheerfully retorted, backing up enthusiastically to the dining table to assume his position by the DJ equipment.

Stretching in his place briefly, the older man didn't hesitate to stroll over to one of the white leather sofas, picking the empty one specifically to sit down and stretch out in the center, with his arms over the top of the couch. He sighed out, resting his back against the cushioned surface. "Now this is comfort!" The man spoke to himself alone, yet with the same tone of enthusiasm he had held earlier.

Over on the makeshift dance floor, one man dancing in his blue dress shirt and navy trousers called out to the party host. "Hey Lucio, you think you can play that calming song you have? What's it called? Rejuvenate?" He chuckled happily while dancing, obviously under the influence of a few beverages.

Lucio waved his hand dismissively. "Not even a problem. I got you hooked! I know the one you want." Lucio dragged his finger across the laptop's mouse pad, queuing a few songs up in the program he was using. "Now that's a good playlist." The surround speakers on the computer, and the speaker from his loudspeaker device on the table both blazed the rejuvenating music aloud. Despite being an electronic best, everyone on the makeshift felt dance floor seemed to look much calmer, all of their tension washing away. Happy with the result, Lucio grinned and picked up his smartphone, a lengthy white device that sat next to his laptop. He jogged over to the couch where his friend sat and sat at the opposite end. He leaned facing his friend, leaning against the armrest with his back. "Man, it's good to see you!" Lucio admittedly said aloud, tapping a few times at his phone. "You liking the music?"

The older man couldn't help shaking his head. "Bah, kids these days and their techno music! You should enjoy the classics! Like Hasselhoff!" The older man chuckled aloud and stretched out his arms some more, scooting away to give Lucio more space. "What is next on the list, Lucio? There is justice to be done! We need more villains to face!" As ever, the older man was enthusiastic about fighting for the forces of good.

Lucio only rolled his eyes at the comment on his music. "We gotta get you some new tunes one of these days, Reinhardt." Lucio stretched himself, happily sighing out. "We pushed Vishkar back enough already that the government is on our side. They don't want them here either. Probably better that way. They don't understand that people need to be free!" Lucio then sat up, obviously serious about what he was talking about. "Look at these people. Vishkar talks about making this a better place, but look how happy they are without their help!" With a sigh, he leaned back into his former position. "And I have you to thank, Reinhardt! I'm glad I called you in to help me out."

"It was no problem at all, my friend! I can't sit when there is glory to be won out in the field! Even down here in Brazil." Reinhardt chuckled and leaned comfortably back in the couch and sighed out in exasperation at the thought. Fighting in Brazil against Vishkar had taken a toll on the two, despite how different in age they were. An onlooker would've noticed how exhausted both looked in their relaxed positions, despite how cleanly dressed they both were. "What is next, my friend? There has to be more for us out there!"

"I was hoping you'd say that. We're too good of a duo to ruin this partnership! We are just heroes for hire right now, aren't we? There's gotta be a need for help out there somewhere. So I've been looking into a few places... But I don't know. We'll see." Lucio replied. "In other words - yeah, we got some bad guys to mess with. Just give me time to plan it out, alright?" Lucio sighed out and stretched once again.

"All in good time, my friend! I will be ready with the time comes for us to bring justice!” Always enthusiastic, Reinhardt was, when it came to serving the forces of good. “This old dog still can bring the fight, you know!”

“Of course I know that. I’m not questioning your abilities, Reinhardt. Only your taste in music.” Lucio then shared a laugh with the older friend of his.

The two were an unorthodox pairing. One was an old man, long past his prime days of fighting - but yet, a fire still burned in his heart with a desire to fight for what was right. Lucio had seen it first hand. Once he heard the struggle of the rebellion in Brazil, he didn’t hesitate to help fight. Lucio was on a much different spectrum. He was a young DJ, light-hearted and laid back with the world at his fingertips thanks to his immense fan backing across the world. Yet, even as a DJ, Lucio still led the Brazilian rebels against Vishkar without hesitation. Other celebrities would’ve sat back and ignored the troubles in the country. Together, these two formed an odyssey when it came to heroic duos, one that villains didn’t expect. At least, not at the moment.

Lucio spoke up once more. “Hey, Reinhardt. Share one of your stories for me, you know? Let me know how you came to be. I’ve been fighting alongside you for a while now, and I still haven’t found out your origins. I wanna know why you “fight for justice” and all of that good stuff.” Lucio chuckled, for he had did his best to do an impression of his friend when he spoke on justice.

“There is not much to be said about it, my friend! I was a soldier who still lives by a code of honor, and I will work to see justice done where it is needed.” Reinhardt simply replied, stretching somewhat. He was a simple man. Long explanations of former tales were not needed in his eyes when it came to origins.

“You were in Overwatch back when that was a thing, right?” Lucio brought up, after thinking it over for a few moments. His memory wasn’t completely sure, but Lucio put the pieces together anyway. “Yeah, I think you were! Must’ve been fun.”

“Overwatch was glorious back in it’s time! Old Jack knew how to keep things together!” Reinhardt chuckled for a few moments before he sighed deeply, with a few moments of silence to follow. “Ah… but that was a long time ago.”

It was an awkward silence for a few moments as both heroes recalled the times that once were with Overwatch looming over the world as protectors. “Listen, I’m sorry for bringing it up. I was just curious about -”

Lucio didn’t speak for long before the glass of the windows shattered completely, spreading glass across the white carpeted floor. In shock, both Lucio and Reinhardt jumped up from their couch and look towards the shattering - just as the people on the dance floor did. Through the window came two men via a rope, distinctly threatening in their appearance.

The first man that came through was very thin, dressed entirely in black camouflage. The man’s skin was pale, and he wore a black winter hat atop his head. His beard was clean shaven, an expression of experience on his face. Once he entered Lucio’s home, he unsheathed a blade from his belt - a sword that was glowing blue of some unwieldy energy.

The second man seemed like the leader of the duo, sharing the experienced and threatening expression. This man kept a shaggy brown beard, a scar prevalent over his right eye of intimidating battle damage. Just like his partner, he wore black camouflage completely in his outfit. Notably, his weapons of choice were much different - with two gun holsters strapped to his belt. The man unsheathed two small pistols, firing them into the ceiling. Machine pistols, made known once he fired. “Everybody down! Nobody moves, nobody gets hurt! We’re here for one man.” The mercenary then jabbed his finger directly at the party host, Lucio himself.

Although Lucio was taken by surprise like everyone else, he uttered a confident reply. “When will you Vishkar learn that people should be free?” Lucio nudged Reinhardt with his elbow. “You see this? Another case of Vishkar trying to ruin our people’s freedoms. Just trying to have a good time and they break into my home.”

“Stop talking, or else Phobos here is going to shoot everyone in this place down without a second thought.” The scrawnier man with the blade retorted aloud in reply. “And I’ll cut you down into pieces right after.” A laugh came after, maniacal in tone.

“That’s right Deimos.” The burlier man snickered. “What will it be, street ruffian? You and your large friend here come with us, or do we need to fill you full of holes first?” He chuckled, sharing the same sinister aspect of his fellow mercenary.

Lucio put his hands up. “Alright, I’ll come with you.” He answered in reluctance, much to the shock of both Reinhardt and the guests. “On one condition. Everyone here has to leave first. No stray bullets come our way.” Reinhardt was about to speak out here, but Lucio quickly tapped his arm to signal against speaking. “We got a deal, mercs?”

Deimos and Phobos looked at one another before Phobos spoke up. “Alright. Everybody out through the front door! Don’t try anything funny, or I start shooting!” He waved one of his guns at the crowd in the back before waving the gun towards the door. People made for the door rather quickly in fear, with the heroes and mercs remaining in a firm standoff in silence. Once everyone had left, the front door was left open with the room remaining silent. “Now… we’re getting paid dollar to take both of you in. Especially the big guy.”

Both of the heroes raised their eyebrows. “Why him?” Lucio asked in confusion. It was unlike Vishkar’s methods to be so violent, but Lucio wasn’t surprised they would try something of this nature in order to threaten him into surrendering. Reinhardt, however, was merely an accomplice. Was it because he helped turned the tide of the rebellion?

“We ain’t talking. We got our orders.” Deimos snapped, annoyed by Lucio’s persistence and curiosity.

Lucio rolled his tongue in his cheek, taking a quick glance up at his larger friend. “You got a plan for this, Reinhardt?” Lucio whispered. He looked around the room, eyeing for his speaker gun. No chance. It was behind them, still hooked to the laptop used for spreading music for the party. In the dense silence of the room, however, the tune of music caught Lucio’s ears - one of his own songs, one known for it’s tendency to speed things forward. His eyes lit up. “Reinhardt. The couch. Cover.”

“Hey, stop talking over there! Now come with us, or we’ll fill you both with holes and get on with our day.” Phobos was getting rather irritated at the stalling Lucio persisted on using to buy themselves time. To the two mercenaries, their fate was inevitable. A sudden death or capture that would lead to their payment. Of course, taking them alive would pay more.

Lucio tapped Reinhardt’s shoulder again. “Hit it!” He shouted, to which the older man quickly slid down into a crouch, tipping one of the couches and shielding both of them with it. Both heroes crouched behind the couch steadily. “What now, my friend?” The older man asked, flinching along with his younger friend when Phobos began shooting at the couch angrily. Thankfully, the couch was thick enough to take some bullets, but it wouldn’t hold for too long. The bullets were already beginning to break the cushions. Reinhardt bellowed a laugh. “Is that all?” Despite the unorthodox shield, Reinhardt felt pretty confident in their chances.

“Don’t worry!” Lucio jogged over, sliding into the living room and grabbing his speaker gun from the table. He had slid onto his back, to which Deimos saw a vulnerable. Laughing maniacally, Deimos rushed forward with his sword drawn. With a grit of his teeth in anxiousness, Lucio quickly plugged his phone into his speaker gun and fired, shooting a soundwave off at the charging Deimos. The mercenary flew back with a cry of pain, hitting the wall near Phobos - unconscious from the knockback. “Boom!” Lucio laughed. In the back, Phobos grit his teeth. Before he could aim his guns at Lucio, the DJ flicked a switch on his speaker gun - maxing it’s charge before slamming it on the ground. A green aura surged through the room, with the aura coating the two heroes. The two mercenaries remained unaffected. “Drop the beat on ‘em, Reinhardt!”

“Gladly, my friend!” Reinhardt charged forward with the couch, infused with both the aura and speed-inducing music. Phobos was slammed against the wall, his guns falling to the floor. Reinhardt chuckled and gripped the mercenary by the collar using his own natural strength. With a few loud grunts of sheer fighting power, Reinhardt slammed his fist into the mercenary’s face before tossing him aside. Chuckling, he grabbed Deimos as well, who was still reeling from the hit on the wall. Both disoriented men were placed right in front of the broken window.

Lucio jogged over and chuckled along with his older friend. “Seems like the usual business to me, huh Reinhardt?”

“All in a good day’s work, my friend.” The two were both grinning, quite pleased that they both figured out a way to combat the dire situation.

“Of course it is!” Lucio looked over the two mercenaries. “Hey, listen… Next time you try to attack my home, make sure you mind the music.” With a grin, Lucio clicked the soundwave trigger on his speaker gun, knocking the two insidious men back out the window they came. The two heroes didn’t bother to hear their landing, and instead went to sit down one one of the couches left in place.

Once the adrenaline had simmered down, the air remained dense. Neither hero had bothered to pick up the mess. It was mostly Lucio who had maintained the ensuing minutes of silence, refusing to speak as he collected his thoughts. It prompted Reinhardt himself to speak. “Lucio… I am sorry this happened. We showed those two justice, however! And nobody was hurt! What are we to do now? There is glory to be won!”

Lucio shook his head a moment, although he appreciated the usual persona Reinhardt maintained. “That’s the problem, Reinhardt! They attacked my house… right at my home. Were they even with Vishkar? They were after you too.” After those words, the heroes both remained silent for minutes more before Lucio spoke again.

“I have to work on those hero for hire plans sooner than I thought.”


	2. Night On The Town!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Lucio and Reinhardt moving to their New York City headquarters, they end up looking into a jewelry store robbery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really needed to get this out there. It’s just so painful to sit on a chapter for so long. Every time I came back to it, I feel so depressed and so drained just to work on it. So I just thought I’d finally just wrap it up so I can stop having this big weight on my chest. I just lost motivation to write this chapter, and I’m looking forward to dusting the rust off in the next chapter of this series, and the next chapter of “Reaper.” So, I sincerely apologize if it’s not my best, but it stressed me out everytime I saw this in my Google Docs - and I don’t want to scrap it, either.

Nightlife in New York City was always lively. It was the city that never slept, after all. Harlem had an active nightlife itself. The streets around the world-famous Apollo theater were bustling with activity, cars whizzing by on Malcolm X Boulevard all through the night. The boulevard was known for it’s dangerous traffic, and residents tended to stray away as a result. So did our heroes. They established themselves on a street just one block away from the subway station, removing the need for crossing the dangerous area if they felt the need to contact them. How would they find them?

A civilian wouldn’t need to look far to find the heroes. Right on 124th street, a 12th floor was completely rented out for the purposes of the heroes. On the windows, “Heroes For Hire” was printed in green neon lights - an idea that Lucio himself provided. If it wasn't for the neon lights shining brightly on the humble Harlem street, one could recognize the lair of the heroes from the consistent bumping of Lucio’s electronic music, for he had built his own DJ Studio within their lair. The 12th floor featured several rooms, rooms of which the heroes would retire to when evening came along. During the day, the heroes would lounge within the DJ Studio/Lounge area room - where Lucio would practice new music to his heart’s content, much to Reinhardt’s distaste. The persistent bumping of Lucio’s music filled the Harlem air on a nightly basis. Life was fair for the two heroes - with the funding of Lucio’s fame and fortune keeping their hero business going, the two looked forward to finding action in New York City. Although, not much had come their way yet. Despite remaining two individuals capable of great things, what kind of action is there in minor crimes? A mugging here, a bike theft there… random encounters that seemed to become repetitive in nature. 

“That’s the ticket!” Inside the studio, the walls of the room where padded with black cushions, in an attempt to muffle some of the sound. In the back of the room, a large desk was made out for Lucio’s work. Maintaining his same recording laptop and speakers, Lucio jammed to one of his own beats while staring at the laptop screen. Here, he donned his green and blue standard gear - his headphones blaring vibrantly within his ears. He seemed to have fallen for this beat in particular, his head bobbing to the melodies that blared within his ears. Even so, the same music track glared through the speakers, rattling the older friend who accompanied him in the nearby room. 

The lounge area in particular was well made out to accompany guests, and to apply maximum comfort. It was a kitchen/living room area - made out with expensively chosen sofas and a widescreen TV - items that represented the flair and fame of the world famous DJ. The carpet was well kept and clean in its cream color, with the walls sharing it’s sentiment. It was here that Reinhardt reluctantly sat, his arms crossed while eyeing the TV screen for the latest news. The two, as ever, were an odd pairing - remaining close friends despite the glaring differences between the two. Even when Reinhardt struggled to hear the TV completely due to Lucio’s everlasting glare of music, he still welcomed their friendship with open arms. Reinhardt himself was donning his steel gear, minus the helmet. He had to allow his graying hair to be shown, after all, despite it being long past it’s prime.

If it wasn’t for a break in the music where Lucio began switching songs, Reinhardt would’ve missed the tapping upon the freshly painted steel door to the lounge. “We might have a task at hand here!” Reinhardt bellowed out in an attempt to gather Lucio’s attention, to no avail. Swiftly, the older man made for the door, eyeing the small hole on the door to get a glimpse at the arriving guest. “Brigitte!” Reinhardt swung the door open and smiled at the young brunette woman that had arrived, freckled and pale in her complexion.”Ah, it is too good to see you again! Has anyone called for our services?” 

The young woman folded her arms. She was always the brazen type of woman - a person with enough emboldened prowess that she was capable of repairing Reinhardt’s own armor. She stood at not a very tall height, and collapsed her brown hair within a casual ponytail. Her outfit remained simple as well - a plain white tank top with brown work pants. Reinhardt had wanted her from the start when they began the “Heroes For Hire” gig. Who else would they bring along that was capable of handling the business of the two men? Lucio himself didn’t know anyone of the sort, and Brigitte was the first woman that came to Reinhardt’s mind for the task. “No… nobody’s around. I was going to ask you both the same. We need to find a bigger task soon.” At this, Brigitte stepped in and looked around. The music… far too strong for her ears. “Is he really still in there? It’s been hours!” 

Reinhardt shrugged. “The young one likes his techno music. Everyday with the music!” The older man then plopped back down on the sofa, giving out a grunt and a sigh before leaning back - resting his arms out. 

Brigitte strolled into the darkened studio room and glossed over Lucio’s set up. Hands on her hips, she scolded at the DJ. “Lucio! Lucio! Hello?” She called out for him, all in vain. The music aficionado was too grasped by the music to think otherwise, his eyes shut in symphony. Forced to make physical contact, Brigitte walked close and tugged one side of the DJ’s headphones down. “Hey! How long have you been at this for?” When shouting, the woman’s thick German accent could be heard aloud. 

“What?” Lucio opened his eyes and looked over at the arriving woman. “Oh, hey! Just trying to get things ready for the next album, you know?” Lucio laughed. “What’s up?” Laid-back and casual in his manner, Lucio set his earbuds down upon the laptop’s surface before clicking a button - pausing the music entirely, much to Reinhardt’s relief. 

The woman shook her head at Lucio’s lax manner, who despite his constant hours of music production, remained oblivious to the amount of time he was putting into it. “Don’t you know how long you’ve been at this? You’re lucky we haven’t gotten a noise complaint yet!”

A vibrant Lucio only shrugged, simply walking over into the lounge. “Relax, Brigitte. Give yourself to the rhythm!” The musician declared as he went to the refrigerator, digging a simple bottle of water out and sipping from it. “Come on, we gotta enjoy our time here! We’re in New York City!” Lucio plopped down on the couch next to his older friend and sighed out. “Even if we don’t have any jobs now, we will eventually! Me and Reinhardt will be ready when that time comes. Right, Reinhardt?” Lucio chuckled, tapping his older friend’s shoulder. 

“Only where there is people that need to be helped. Petty crimes do not perk my interest. We need to chase glory with a big job!” Reinhardt heartedly replied, chuckling at Lucio’s antics. In their time together as friends, Reinhardt could only admit to himself that he had gotten used to Lucio’s ways - despite some minor headaches every so often. 

Brigitte crossed her arms and stared at the two men on the couch for a moment. “Hmph.” The woman was perplexed simply by seeing them sitting side by side - much as anyone else would. Heroic duos had happened in the past, surely, but none were as unorthodox as this duo. Still, they seemed fine together, a fitting pair. “Well, we just have to wait then. I am sure something will come up soon enough. There’s enough turmoil in the world for both of you to solve.” 

“Let’s keep the news on.” Lucio fumbled around the couch area, until he discovered the remote lodged within the sofa crevices. He aimed the remote at the TV and flicked it on, the default news channel flickering on - a female newscaster showcasing the weather forecast for the upcoming week. Lucio was lucky he arrived in the summer to New York. He was sure he’d be in for a chilling surprise in the winter months. Lucio let the news play out, setting the remote back down on the coffee table. Sighing out, he leaned back in his seat and eyed the screen. 

Then came the bells, the tantalizing sound of bells stabbing through the haze of calmness and piercing the air. Lucio rushed to the window and gripped the windowsill, eyes staring out the window with enthusiasm in an attempt to figure out what it was. “Can’t see anything from here… What is that sound?” Hurriedly, in complete intrigue, Lucio lifted the window up and poked his head out, looking around further. “Nope… Must be on the other street.” 

“Hmm… sounds like an alarm bell. One of those that rings when a store is being broken into. Might want to check it out.” Brigitte replied, her eyebrows raised - with obvious intrigue herself. “I’ll stay here and hold down the fort.” 

Lucio nodded and jogged over to Reinhardt, patting his shoulder quickly before running back into his DJ room. “Come on, man! We gotta get down there!” The musician was attempting to put his iconic skates on in a rush. The speaker gun he always carried was wired to his person before he ran out of the room. 

Reinhardt had already stood up. “Come, there are people in danger if there is a break-in!” With his strength, he thrust the door to the apartment open. “Use that speed thing of yours. This old dog needs a bit of a boost.” While ashamed to admit that he wasn’t fast enough to keep up with Lucio normally, he knew Lucio wouldn’t mind. It was just another excuse for him to jam out to his own music. 

“Got it!” Out of his pocket, he tugged out his smartphone, which remained wired to his speaker gun. Flipping through the artists available on the device until he found his own name listed amongst them, Lucio picked out his famous song, “We Move Together As One.” “Move to the beat!” Without further words, the musician bolted out the apartment door, sliding down the stairwell with enthusiasm. 

With a grunt in reply, Reinhardt plodded out behind his friend, although he did feel the music boosting him forward - faster than he would be capable of by any normal means. 

[Later]

Upon arriving at the source of the ringing, it was clear that a jewelry store had been burglarized. The glass encompass windows of the store were shattered completely for the assailants to allow themselves inside in a haphazard fashion. Glass was scattered about the sidewalk lining the front of the store, and the interior was prevalent of empty jewelry cases. The store, labeled as “High Roller Jewelers” via a somewhat luxurious sign - cursive writing lined over solid black paint. The owners of the store were not present, and not a sound was to be heard beyond the alarm still ringing it’s vexing tune through the air. Lucio slid into a solid standstill outside of the store, his skates crunching some of the glass beneath his feet. “I think we’re a bit late, Reinhardt. Nobody’s here!” 

Reinhardt stopped outside of the store. It was somewhat uncanny for him, to see how he felt the need to catch his breath after the short run, while his heroic partner hadn’t broken a sweat at all. “Perhaps they will come back. Criminals always return to the crime at some point!” Confidently, Reinhardt slammed his hammer face down, crushing some more of the broken glass before kneeling down to observe the area. “Criminals… Robbing such a humble little store. It is a shame.” 

“I can agree with that, Reinhardt.” Lucio, with hands on his waist, looked around. “Well, I guess we got nothing to go off of. What are we supposed to do?” Somewhat frustrated, Lucio let out a long sigh, groaning aloud. “We’ve been screwing up, Reinhardt. Maybe we should start patrolling the neighborhood.” Lucio gazed up the street, where he stared for a few minutes - until the red and blue flashing lights of the local police came racing around the corner and onto the street. “Look, maybe the cops will do something. At least we were faster than them.” To this statement, Reinhardt stood up and turned to watch the incoming police cars, hammer still in tow. 

However, the result wouldn’t be what they wanted. The two patrol vehicles, glazed with the bold NYPD logo across the sides, came to a halt outside the jewelry store, to which the blue-clad police inside came rushing out. “Freeze!” One of the officers called out, aiming his standard sidearm at the two heroes. The other three policemen, two from each vehicle, did the same. All shared the same hard-nosed look, their eyes filled with determination - a sense that they accomplished something by apprehending the two. “Whoa, whoa, easy!” Lucio put his hands up immediately. While it wasn’t the first time he was held at gunpoint, it was certainly something he hadn’t gotten used to. Reinhardt wasn’t about to surrender easily, however, and grit his teeth - hands clasping tighter around his hammer. 

“Ease up, Reinhardt. We’re not going to fight cops. We’ll get out of this.” Lucio answered in reply, simply keeping his hands steady while one of the officers began cuffing him. “Jeez, I bet the news will be all over this - World famous DJ gets arrested in jewelry store robbery!” Lucio groaned once more as the handcuffs were set in place. The officers began escorting the young DJ, allowing him to be seated in the back of one of their patrol cars. “I think my friend there is too tall for this car to handle. Might have to walk him over.” 

While Reinhardt was reluctant to watch his friend simply get put in the backseat of a patrol car, he knew Lucio was right. Why fight honorable people like the police? They were after the same goal, weren’t they? Reinhardt dropped his hammer on the ground, letting it clatter against the pavement before he growled - his hands raising in the air. “Steadfast, my friend! I will be there before long!” 

“Yeah, if you say so, man.” Lucio uttered with a sense of worry in his heart, to which he could look to the windows of the vehicle. His mind wandered, searching for the answer to the scenario he was in. For the first time, he felt like he finally lost a battle. As a rebel in Brazil, the cost was always capture and jail, but he won that battle. Being locked away felt like he had failed for once. 

 

The steel walls of the holding cell presented a sensation that only the undesirables of society could feel the full brunt of. The walls of the cell were filled with recent suspects, people from all walks of life. A majority were drunks - their clothes haphazardly spread about unevenly due to their rampage of the demon drink. It almost put Lucio to shame. A majority of New York City clubs jammed out to his music on a nightly basis. The notion almost made him uncomfortable - for these drunks were associated with his own music. Of course, Lucio’s mind raced to happier, milder, thoughts. The music was always a great assist to the common people. How many people have felt healed prim and proper thanks to his rejuvenation track? How many New York minutes went even faster thanks to his “We Move Together As One”? After all, the music only had an effect on those with good souls - surely not anyone who dares to touch the demon drink.

The night dragged on in a drawl that only horrors could find appealing. Lucio was forced to sit there in silence with the groans of the insubordinate individuals littering the rest of the cell. Is this how prison was? A simple cell where a human being was forced to deal with their own thoughts - well, at least until Reinhardt got there. The incessant thoughts were only broken when a burly man sauntered up to Lucio’s seat. A bald man, with a scruffy beard of black hair speckled with grime. The vexing scent of alcohol remained prevalent amongst the man’s breath. “That’s my seat. Get up.” The voice emanating from the man was garbled and distraught, but Lucio couldn’t take the man seriously. He was a hero, and a rebel - there was nothing to fear.  
“I didn’t see you sitting in it when I got here.” Lucio confidently replied, unwavered by the man - refusing to give up the bolted-down seat. It hadn’t dawned on him how miniscule the argument was, for an uncomfortable plastic chair that was bolted to the cell floor. 

Unknown to the two men now staring each other down in a standoff for the one seat in the cell, the cell doors had opened, allowing Lucio’s older and taller friend in - a friend, who when seeing the debacle, immediately charged at the drunkard that had attempted to intimidate Lucio. The taller Reinhardt slammed the man against the cell wall, to which Lucio simply sat back down. Reinhardt bellowed a chuckle before folding his arms. “Don’t get up!” 

“Hey, settle down in there!” An officer could be heard shouting from the nearby room. 

Stepping over the drunkard on the ground, Reinhardt stood in front of Lucio. “How are you, my friend? Is the cell nice and comfortable?” Almost a hint of sarcasm lied in Reinhardt’s voice, one that Lucio didn’t see often. 

Lucio only shook his head and laughed. “Not as comfortable as I’d like it to be.” Even in such a dreary cell, he could find enlightenment thanks to his jolly friend - despite the company they had the misfortune of sharing the cell with.


End file.
